Sex over fifty. Three wonderful words that women across the globe chant as they get closer and closer to that magic number.
Now, I'm not saying all women can relate to what I am talking about, but enough of you can, and those that can't; well, I'm jealous, pure and simple.
I had always assumed that once I went through menopause my sex life would go through the roof. No more worrying about becoming pregnant. Never having to say no because it was "that time" again. Nope, sex was going to fun, spontaneous and frequent.
I have had numerous fantasies about it. Now I could seduce my husband on a whim. Sex before work, sex after work, sex sex sex. That would be us. It would be no holds barred... Sex in the kitchen, car, floor; you name it, we would do it.
Well, maybe not everywhere. I don't think there is a man alive who could hoist me up onto the kitchen counter like in the movie Fatal Attraction. Great scene, but, not for this lady.
Our kids would be off living their own lives and we would be alone; ready to let ourselves go and explore the magical wonderful life of sex without restrictions.
I could not wait!!
Oh dear God was I wrong. I am beginning to think that this myth was brought about by older women who were jealous of their younger sisters and didn't want to feel they were being one-upped. Or, a fantasy to tell the younger girls and then watch them as they neared that age and realized that sex over 50 was something women could only dream about.
Sex, I'm not sure I know how to do it anymore. They say it's like riding a bicycle, you never forget, but I'm not so sure. 56 years old and fumbling around in the bedroom like a naive teenager.
So when all is said and done, I am by all practical purposes, a virgin again.
What to do, what to do?
I could seduce my husband saschaing across the bedroom in a sexy-slutty outfit. I don't own anything like that but I could buy one.
First stop, Fredrick's of Hollywood plus size department. Does Frederick's have a plus size department.....SHOULD they have a plus sized department?
Anyway, I would search for that perfect outfit. One that would make me look thinner than I am, take years off my life and positively guarantee that my husband and I would enjoy hours upon hours of sexual satisfaction and pleasure.
What to buy?
Thong or little shorts. Decisions decisions.
Neither is a good choice for my particular body type, but when you are trying to be a vixen, you just have to suck it up and go for it.
I could purchase a leotard, but I believe that would be much too much spandex. Besides the fact that it would take hours trying to stuff myself into them, once my husband tried to take them off of me, the force of my flesh escaping from the elastic could quite possibly kill one of us, or at the very least, take out an eye.
Thongs. I could certainly put a thong on but I don't think I would ever find it again. Thong - out.
Little shorts. With thighs like mine, and ladies you know what I'm talking about, the inside of the shorts would ride up in my crotch while the outside of my shorts would be where they belonged. Not very attractive. Little shorts - out.
How about a long gown flowing and elegant. I don't think that would work either. All that material could prove to be hazardous; we could choke to death if we got caught up in all that fabric.
I think I'll go with pajama pants. I'll use silk; at least that's sexy.
The top. For sure, it would have to have a build-in bra. Each breast would need it's own section. Otherwise, while I was seductively walking across the room to my man, by boobs would be swaying in the wind just beneath the hem of my teddy. Flapping and swaying breasts does not a happy me make.
Not attractive and down right uncomfortable.
Pajama top it is.
For decades, I wore high heels to work and out to play in the evening. Because of this, I have a beautifully deformed foot that will not allow me to wear heels for longer than one second. Heels, out.
To make things all the more exciting, I guess I could bring toys into the mix, but if you have read my other post about sex toys, you already know that the mere whirring sound of a battery sends me running in fear. Sex toys, out.
Where does this leave me? In my pajamas, shuffling across the room in my fluffy slippers to my husband, no toys and no heels and most likely, no sex.
The only thing left to do is...........
Wake him up.
Happy love making everyone
